


Anatomy class

by puppy (pupp)



Category: The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: Chiron is only mentioned but i added him bc i can, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, anyway have fun, but its barely explicit, i cant remember when they leave chiron but: i do not care, only one (1) penis related word is mentioned i think, theyre jacking off, theyre young adults btw, this is slightly nsfw, tsoa - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:48:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26979088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pupp/pseuds/puppy
Summary: Patroclus gives Achilles a lesson on muscle physiology.Extremely soft and self indulgent bc im in a patrochilles mood.
Relationships: Achilles & Patroclus (Song of Achilles), Achilles/Patroclus (Song of Achilles)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 99





	Anatomy class

Chiron would not find them outside today. The training spears were resting still against the rock, the clear in the forest where you would find them wrestling empty and deserted, Patroclus’ books closed and silent on a corner. There was a study lesson happening, though.

“Pectoralis. Major, minor under the ribs.”  
A thumb rolls slowly but swiftly over one of Achilles’ nipples and across his white velvety chest, his body shuddering under the touch. His waist rises in the air without command, feeling Patroclus’ other hand slide under him.  
“Serratus posterior inferior.” -He says. The younger boy starts to think he has been put under a spell and Patroclus is playing with him, summoning to life every muscle as he names them.  
Achilles retracts one of his legs, allowing for the other boy to get closer to him. They share a few breathless kisses, neither of them restraining themselves in the pleasures of young love, their naked bodies shuddering under the heat of each other’s touch. Patroclus must continue his class though, and pushing Achilles down softly, he goes back into place between his legs, running his hand with devotion up his lover’s outer thigh while he lets a shaky sigh escape his lips.  
“Gracilis.” –Patroclus whispers as he plants the sweetest and softest of kisses up Achilles’ inner thigh. A hand slips between the son of Menoetious’ chocolate hair, curly, soft and wild like that of a lamb; running through it without command while he murmurs sweet nothings and love sighs at the air.

“Patroclus, come.”  
He calls to him, and Patroclus obliges without hesitation, like a dog summoned by his master. He ties his arms to his lover’s neck, kissing his lips and entering his mouth with weak force while the older one keeps running his hands all over his fair skin. Their pearly teeth clash with impatience and their yet unfamiliar habit, wet tongues meeting each other. Achilles thought, in all his oversaturated mind could stand, he would melt right there, by how fiercely the fire inside his chest was burning him up. His wrist was lightly held by Patroclus’ hand, and guided towards his nethers. Achilles looked down, not even able to form a smile on his face, caressing his lover’s abs and trailing the curly fur to meet his shaft. He raised his head to meet with his eyes, and as he stared on those irises as dark as a deer’s Achilles felt the luckiest man in the world. Patroclus kissed him again, burying then his face in his neck to whisper to him unrepeatable love words that would surely make Aphrodite blush.

They stayed tied together like a single being, holding each other in a trembling cocoon, their breaths and laughs and whispers mixing and tangling and becoming one. Achilles’ stared as his fierce movements sent ripples of sparks and warmth all over Patroclus, his eyes closed and expression pleading silently. His tan chest expanded and he raised his head with a low guttural grunt, Achilles feeling him explode, and he used the opportunity to come closer and bury his face in his neck, the smell of salt and manliness and forest mixing in. He could not help but think about how much he adored that smell, how Patroclus would always summon the scent of trees and woods and virgin rivers unseen by anyone till the moment they stepped in their waters. He would soon follow him, his hand looking for support in the broad, panting chest of his love. Patroclus kept holding him as he finished riding the sensation and falling into a sleepy bliss, running his fingers through strands of blond silky hair in the most delicate and devoted manner. The younger boy made a tired chuckle, holding his chin on the shoulders of the other, his golden eyelashes flickering lazily and letting himself slide into a cozy drowsiness.


End file.
